Mind of the Mentor
by wfea
Summary: Oneshot sequel to Last Call. Forty years have passed since Danny decided he would make a last call that ended up changing so many people's lives for the better. During high school, Danny become fast friends with the new teacher, Mr. Johnson, and years later, Danny is paying him a visit when he learns to what extent his last call had truly changed a life.


**A/N: **Hellooooo FanFiction! Long time no see, huh? Next month will be two years since I've updated anything (that update being me finishing _Last Call_). But _Last Call _is exactly what's brought me back here. Not long after finishing _Last Call_, I started work on a multi-chapter sequel that is still in the works, and I'm also not promising to ever post it, what with college and life and stuff. But in writing that sequel, I came up with the idea for this oneshot, which focuses on the friendship between Danny and Mr. Johnson.

**If you haven't read **_**Last Call**_**,** you won't really appreciate the meaning of this story. Good news is, you only need to read chapters 1, 2, & 15 of _Last Call_, and know that Danny ended up waiving off his suspicions, to understand. But you know…if you wanna read the whole thing, I won't stop ya. ;)

For those of you who have read _Last Call_, the context of this story is pretty easy to gather, although the basis of their friendship is developed more in that sequel that may never happen. I just really wanted to write and post this one, since it can make sense anyway.

**Timeline: **Set in the _Last Call _timeline, 40 years in the future.

**Disclaimer: ** I still don't own Danny Phantom, after all these years.

* * *

**Mind of the Mentor**

* * *

Danny still didn't like this place very much.

Honestly, he should be used to it by now. He'd been coming by for a visit at least once a week for over a year now, and he knew all the staff members by name. They were all nice and very sweet, as Danny assumed was a requirement considering their job.

"Afternoon, Danny," a short, middle-aged woman greeted when Danny walked through the double doors.

"How are you today, Carla?"

"Good as always." She turned her attention back to the man in the wheelchair. "I think you have some visitors, Mr. Terry." Carla wheeled the old man past Danny, toward a young couple and a small girl. Danny continued walking into the facility, greeting nurses as they walked by.

Thankfully, both his parents were still doing well. Neither of them was willing to move out of the old Fenton home, and Danny was completely alright with them living there as long as they were able, and hopefully that meant for the rest of their lives. His dad still insisted on spending ample time in the basement, even though Jazz had tried dozens of times to persuade him that he was going to break a leg if he kept gallivanting up and down those stairs ten times a day. His mom had moved most of her equipment to the second floor, so the only danger she presented to herself was the multitude of things that could go wrong with ghost experiments—but Danny figured she'd been doing that for about sixty years now, so there was no stopping her on that.

The other adult in Danny's life was not so fortunate. Staying at home had not been an option, and even a nice, retirement village was a bad idea. He had gotten very bad very quickly, and very suddenly. Amity Nursing Home, where he would be under the close eye of nurses day in and day out, had been the only option.

Danny knocked on door 116. "Mr. Johnson?"

A haggard face was staring at the television. He didn't budge at the knock or his name. Danny sighed. It was usually like this. Mr. Johnson's memory was lost. Only once in a while—every month or two—would he recognize Danny and welcome him into the room for a good chat. It had been longer than three months though. Danny kept telling himself that he probably just happened to come by on bad days every week, but he was afraid that his favorite teacher was gone to him for good. The good talks they used to have—the ones that started when Danny was just sixteen years old but continued until Mr. Johnson began getting confused—would have to be enough to get Danny through his life. He'd learned so much from this man; it was difficult to see him like this.

He walked into the room and pulled up a chair close to Mr. Johnson. The movement must have alerted the man that someone was present because he turned and looked right at Danny. The confused look on his face slowly gave way to recognition and surprise. For one glorious moment, Danny thought he may get to talk to his mentor again. But his hopes vanished almost as quickly as they had appeared.

Mr. Johnson let out a small laugh. "I'm sorry, young man. You look so familiar. I thought you were—but you couldn't be."

"Who did you think I was, sir?" Danny asked. This behavior was unusual. Most of the time, Mr. Johnson either didn't recognize him at all or recognized him immediately.

Mr. Johnson looked around the room, as if he were about to let lose a secret. He leaned in close to Danny. "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Danny Fenton? You know…the guy who's actually Danny Phantom?"

Danny pursed his lips. A nurse once told him that he should go along with whatever Mr. Johnson said, so as to not upset him. If Mr. Johnson didn't recognize him, he shouldn't attempt to persuade him to believe he was Danny. Danny had endured many conversations with Mr. Johnson of introducing himself over and over again. But this was something different. Something that had never before happened.

"Umm…" Danny began, but Mr. Johnson interrupted him.

"You look very much like him, but you're too old. Daniel is just a teenager. But give it some time, and he'll look just like you." Mr. Johnson sat back in his seat, satisfied that he'd made sense of the situation. Danny sat with kneaded eyebrows and a slightly open mouth, trying to figure out what to say next. But Mr. Johnson spoke again. "It's not like Daniel would come visit me anyway, though. So why are you here? Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm…" Danny trailed off in thought. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure whether he should convince Mr. Johnson that he _was _Danny or if he should just play dumb. But he was kind of curious of the fact that Mr. Johnson knew who Danny was, even if he couldn't connect the name to the face. _And why would he think I wouldn't come visit him? _Danny thought. He decided to play it off. "I'm just a visitor. Wanted to get to know some of the folks here." After a second thought, he added, "And what's your name?"

"It doesn't matter," Mr. Johnson replied. "It's nice of you to come around here. Not many people do." Danny nodded. Mr. Johnson had never had any family, as long as Danny knew him. It was Danny who had taken care of everything to get him admitted to the nursing home. For all intents and purposes, Danny was Mr. Johnson's son.

"You mentioned something about Danny Fenton. Do you know him very well?" Danny asked.

A smile played at the old man's lips. "Oh yes, I know Daniel very well. We don't see much of each other, especially not anymore, but I used to see him quite often."

_Why is he calling me Daniel? _Mr. Johnson had never referred to him as Daniel—always Danny. He wouldn't have even noticed it—nearly everyone in his life called him Danny—except that Mr. Johnson had once reminded Danny of Vlad Masters, who used to call him Daniel all the time.

"Do you know him?" Mr. Johnson suddenly asked. His eyes were brighter usual. "It hasn't been that long since he told the world his secret."

Danny knitted his eyebrows. Mr. Johnson was obviously living in the very far past at the moment. He thought Danny was still sixteen years old.

To answer the question, Danny said, "Oh, I know of him. I see him flying around every once and while."

Mr. Johnson nodded. "That's just like him. Always showing off." He glanced back at the television, almost as if he were wondering if Danny Phantom would show up on the TV.

"If you know him so well, why wouldn't he come to see you?" Danny asked.

Mr. Johnson looked back at Danny. "Oh, he's a teenager. You know how they are. Besides, I said I knew him—never said we were friends. He hasn't spoken to me in many months—well, except for a couple nights back."

Now Danny was very confused and very curious. He didn't understand what in the world this man was talking about. He and Mr. Johnson had always been friends. They spoke together often and were always friendly toward each other. _That's it…he's completely lost his mind. He's gone for good. _Although Danny hated the thought, he was pretty sure it was true.

There was a distant look in the eyes of Danny's former mentor. He began speaking, but it seemed like he wasn't really speaking to anyone at all. "He called me. It was a surprise—a good surprise. He told me he felt sorry for me. Oddly enough, I was glad he told me that. I always figured I would despise Daniel's pity or sorrow, but in that moment, I was happy that someone out there was remembering me."

Danny frowned. He had called Mr. Johnson dozens of times but never to say sorry. It had always been to thank him or ask him something. Danny was convinced his teacher was remembering someone else, until he opened his mouth again.

"He told me if he were given the chance to make a last call, he'd call me. Out of everyone in the world, he'd call me."

The clock on the wall in the room was beating out a steady rhythm, and the news was humming softly on the TV. But those noises seemed ages away at the moment. Had Mr. Johnson just said what Danny thought he had said?

But he couldn't have, could he?

Danny had once called Vlad Masters, years and _years _ago, and told him that exact thing.

"What?" Danny managed to get out. This was more than Mr. Johnson talking nonsense. What he'd just said had actually happened, but it had happened to someone else.

At least, Danny assumed that it had happened to someone else. There was no reason to believe that the man sitting in front of him—his friend and teacher—and Vlad Masters could be the same person.

But Danny knew that wasn't completely true. The very first time he'd met Mr. Johnson, the man had reminded him of Vlad Masters, and Dani had had that fiasco where she truly believed the man to be Vlad for a short while. Danny and Mr. Johnson himself had been able to convince her otherwise, and Dani and Mr. Johnson had enjoyed a friendly relationship throughout the years as well. Danny had never truly believed Mr. Johnson was Vlad. So many things would've had to have fallen into place so perfectly for Vlad to come up with a disguise that would last for decades.

But only one person knew about that phone call. Danny had never told another soul—not even Sam.

"I don't ever plan to tell anyone about it." Mr. Johnson was still seemingly speaking to no one. "I don't want to admit to anyone that the Fenton boy showed mercy to me in the end, not after everything that happened. But he changed my life, and I did pass on the sentiment."

Danny perked back up. He'd been attempting to work out the last call sequence ever since he figured out that it had rebounded all around Amity Park. Over the last forty years, he'd managed to put together almost the entire list, but there were still a few holes in it. Was he about to find a missing link?

Mr. Johnson didn't look like he was going to say anything else. Cautiously, because he was afraid that if he spoke, Mr. Johnson would snap out of his reverie, Danny asked, "Who did you pass it on to?"

"An old college friend. His name was William."

Danny didn't want to press his luck any further. He could ask his parents if they knew of a William from college. After all, they went to school with Vlad Masters, and Vlad was sitting right here, right in front of Danny.

Danny had wondered for so many years what had become of Vlad. He'd never heard from him—not even a whisper in the ghost zone—or seen him in over forty years. Every once in a while, Danny would attempt to figure out where the man could've stayed hidden for so long. It had never occurred to him that the perfect hiding place was right in plain sight, exactly where he'd always wanted to be, mentoring Danny and watching out for Danielle.

Vlad had ended up with everything he'd ever wanted—well, he'd never married Maddie, and Jack was still alive, but he'd maintained a fairly good relationship with the couple over the years.

Danny couldn't process everything here in the nursing home, so since Mr. John—er, Vlad?—no, Danny was going to keep calling him Mr. Johnson. That's who he'd been to Danny for so long. Since Mr. Johnson still seemed to be in another place, Danny quietly stood up and walked out of the room. He was nearly through the doorway when a familiar voice rang out.

"Danny?"

He stopped and slowly turned around. A smiling face was greeting him.

"There's my second-favorite student, behind only Danielle, of course, but that's because she was around Casper High longer."

He was back—the Mr. Johnson Danny knew and loved—but so much had changed in the last few minutes. If he remembered and recognized Danny as his student, then Mr. Johnson must be back in his right mind, at least for the moment. Danny struggled for a second. Was he supposed to flee the room? Be ashamed and aggravated at himself for becoming what he'd always feared he'd become—Vlad Master's son and student? Or should he march back into the room, pretend nothing had just happened, and have a nice conversation—possibly the last one he'd have—with his favorite teacher, the person who had helped him become successful in life, the person he looked up to as much as he did his parents, the person he'd had such a wonderful relationship with these past years?

Was there really a choice?

"Hey, Mr. Johnson, how've you been?" Danny came back in the room and sat down. The smile and light was there in the old man's face again. Whether he liked it or not, Vlad Masters had completely influenced his life, but he had completely given up villainy to do so. Danny couldn't be angry at that, especially when the man was so obviously happy.

"Oh, as well as always, my boy. How is the business? Sam? The kids? What are they learning in school now-a-days? They'll probably figure out a way to get me out of this place in no time. What is it I'm in here for again, son?"

Danny visited with Mr. Johnson for an hour, relishing in the fact that he was able to actually carry on a conversation with the man who had taught him so much and helped him pass college. He bid goodbye later than usual and rushed home.

Once home, he bolted up the stairs after a quick hello to Sam and the twins. He knew exactly where it was—bottom, right-hand shelf in the closet, in a shoe box labeled "Danny's old stuff."

There was only one thing in it. A list:

Vlad

Lancer  
Sam's mom  
Mom  
Dani  
Star  
Tuck  
Jazz  
Sam's dad  
Dad  
Dash  
Val's Dad  
Kwan

Sam  
Paulina  
Val  
Me

Danny had made this list years ago. He'd spent so much time agonizing over who'd made what calls. There were only two spaces left—but so many people could fill in those spaces. One glance at the paper filled a space though. Danny instantly remembered that Lancer's first name was William. He would check with his parents to make sure, but went ahead and moved Vlad's name down a spot.

One more space to go, but Sam had been super quiet about who had called her. She said it was a secret she would take to her grave, so Danny didn't push the issue much. One day, he hoped to bridge the gap there, but not now.

He stared at the top of the page again. On a whim, forty some odd years ago, Danny had called Vlad Masters. A couple weeks later, Danny had found out that lots of people had received similar calls, and they had all started with his. Throughout the years, Danny had been amazed to find out the repercussions each of these calls had had. True, he didn't understand all of them—and some of them were only put together by clues from friends and friends of friends—but Tucker was he brother-and-law now. Would that have happened otherwise?

Still, the greatest shock had come today, in finding out that Vlad had hidden his identity for so long. He'd said that the call had changed his life. Danny was astounded by the fact that he'd basically created his mentor. Where would he be today, without Mr. Johnson's aid? Not running a successful small business, that's for sure. And where would Vlad be? He wouldn't have been able to show his face in public again, but through the façade of Mr. Johnson, he'd done exactly what he said he was going to do all those years ago—touch the future through his students. Danny always thought it strange that he had decided to teach high school and not college, but he guessed he understood now. At the time, Danny and Danielle had been in high school, so that's where he gravitated towards.

He wouldn't tell Dani. He might tell Sam, but that was probably it. No one else really deserved to know, and Dani would freak out anyway.

But in the back of his mind, he would never forget what an impact one phone call had made in his life and in the life of his once arch-enemy and now good friend.

* * *

**A/N: **There it is. Hope you liked it! I may work some more on that sequel I mentioned, but no promises.

If you're curious how Danny figured out all the weird connections in the last call sequence, you can ask me, and I'll explain. None of them are really worth a story, though.

Have a wonderful summer everyone! Enjoy your freedom! :)


End file.
